


kismet

by sherrybaby



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Sex, not canon but mentions the book and miniseries events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 07:16:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13185054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherrybaby/pseuds/sherrybaby
Summary: Mike stumbles upon Beverly working at a coffee shop in New York. They fuck, but not graphically because I probably can't write sex scenes





	kismet

The wind blew down the street, carrying snowflakes and Mike Hanlon with it. He hunched his shoulders, eyes narrowed against the biting cold, hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

The “We’re open!” sign welcomed him with open arms, promising coffee, food, a  cheery atmosphere and most importantly, the promise of warmth. 

The cafe wasn’t busy when he stepped in, one girl at the register, and a boy making the drinks.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her behind the counter.  _Her._  The girl in his dreams. She was probably in all of their dreams. Looking at her, Mike felt certain they made appearances in hers too. She was older now, but when she locked eyes with him, a customer service smile plastered on her face, he saw her at twelve; long hair in braids, skinned knees, dancing eyes, a cigarette dangling between her lips, laughing. Always laughing.

He briefly wondered if this was meant to be. Out of all the coffee shops in all the world…

For a moment, her eyes flickered in recognition, a cloud of confusion passed over her face but her smile grew wider as Mike stepped up to meet her.

“Hi! what can i get for you, sir?”

“I’ll have one medium coffee, please, black.” 

“Sure! Anything else? Brownie or a scone, maybe?”

“No thanks, just the coffee.” He stepped back a bit, checking behind him to make sure he wasn’t holding up the line.

“Beverly? Beverly Marsh?” 

Her grin faltered, eyes growing wide, concerned. Scared.

“Do I know you?”

“It’s me, Mike Hanlon. From Derry?”

“ _Mike?”_ She hesitated, and he could tell she was still trying to place him. He waited a beat more, nodding slightly to show encouragement. 

Her eyes lit up and her smile grew bright, real. she headed around the counter and pulled her old friend into a hug.

“Tommy, I’m taking my break,” she called to the teenager behind the counter. He just rolled his eyes and handed her Mike’s coffee. Mike waited as she made herself hot chocolate- her favorite drink- and they headed to a nearby table

“Mike Hanlon,” she said in wonderment. “How have you been? How are your parents?” she added quickly, “We all moved away so soon and last I heard you were still there… but it’s great that you got out! No one expected you to play the light-keeper.”

“I’m actually only here on vacation to sort of clear my mind. I did move away for school but had to move back home after my mother passed away… my dad hasn’t been the same since she died.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Bev reached out and squeezed Mike’s hand. Her shirt sleeve rode up as she reached out and Mike’s eyes sought out the yellowing bruise on her arm. She followed his gaze and swiftly tugged down on the hem.

“Old news,” she shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah, dumped him a few days ago,” she murmured, lifting the cup to take a deep drink. “Old habits die hard, huh?”

Just then, her stomach rumbled loudly, and she laugh, embarrassed, behind her hand. 

“Dinner?” He proposed. “My treat!”

“My shift is over in two hours, if you’re hungry, you don’t have to wait.”

“Nonsense,” he waved her explanation away with his hand, “I’ll wait.You can show me the sights.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand again, smiling as he pulled a book out of his coat pocket.

“Old habits,” he shrugged, noticing her look.

* * *

As she shrugged her coat and scarf on, she chattered away, asking about his family, his work, his life, and he returned the questions. They walked, arm in arm down the cold street to a cozy Italian place Beverly loved. The atmosphere felt friendly, inviting and safe, and they talked about everything. The memories returned, briefly, for one night. 

Beverly didn’t remember everything, but she remembered enough and skirted by the real nightmare with happy anecdotes from their childhood, which was just fine by Mike. He wasn’t in any rush to speak on the past, or, he feared, the inevitable future. Not until they were ready.

It could have been the wine talking. Maybe the dancing, because, at some point during the bottle of wine, she pulled him to his feet and they danced in the middle of the restaurant, giddy and free. Definitely the familiarity, the comfortable ease between them.

_“Do you wanna come back to my place?”_

Those words hung in the air for only a second before Mike slowly smiled.

* * *

Her apartment was small, messy but organized. She claimed she knew where everything was and if she cleaned, she wouldn’t be able to find anything.

They stood in the living room and suddenly, they were both shy kids, no longer the sure adults an hour ago, but teetering on the edge of nervousness. They knew what they came here to do, and it felt pure, right.

An eternity passed, and Mike made the first move, wrapping his fingers around her upper arms and pulling her closely. She studied his face and noted that he looked young, but much too tired and she wondered what kept him up at night. She wondered if it was the same unnameable horrors that gripped her. He kissed her before she could ask.

Soon, they were on the bed, their kisses more fevered, but not frantic. Their clothes slid off of them easily, their bodies warming to the others touch.

She reached over to her bedside table and grabbed a condom, and he sat back to allow her to roll the edges down. He placed a knee between her legs, nudging them aside and asking for permission all in lone move. She opened her legs, welcoming him, then wrapped herself around him as he slid into her.

They breathed together, a sigh of relief.

As they moved together in the dark, a memory floated up to meet them both, a sort of deja vu; the damp hard ground against her back, and his hands on either side of her body again. Fear and worry etched in his face, mirroring hers. Neither could fully grasp the memory before it flitted away. 

“Bev?” He whispered, his eyes questioning.

“I know,” she murmured and pulled him down to kiss him.

They felt closer now, their bodies rocking together in a perfect rhythm. The connection was more of a spiritual one now rather than just physical, and he again wondered if he was sent here by some unseen force. She came first, and he quickly followed.

After they had washed up, Mike reached for his jeans discarded at the foot of the bed before Beverly grabbed his hand instead and asked him to stay.

“I just feel like this is where we’re supposed to be, you know? I’m sure that sounds crazy…”

“No. No, I feel it too.”

* * *

He glanced at her as he was buttoning up his shirt, admiring her form as she smoked a cigarette and watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling. The sheet was pulled up over her chest and tucked under her arms, a spattering of freckles adorned her shoulders. The morning light filtered in through the blinds, making her glow. She grinned at him before pulling the sheet tighter around her and climbing out of bed. He loved her modesty in this time; they had been as intimate as you could be, seen each other inside and out, and still she was bashful. It tugged his heart.

He kept that memory through the taxi ride, the airplane ride, and a second taxi ride. As soon as he stepped foot on Derry soil, he let it go. He left his reality come back to him; the days before had been a dream, a “what might have been.” 

The days turned longer, welcoming summer, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes yearn for more on the warm nights, letting the sounds of children playing outside taking him back to that summer. He accepted his role in the group as the caretaker, the ever- vigilant watchman. Happily. Once, just once, he let his mind wander back to Bev, seeing her freckles and her pale skin under him the most clearly, not allowing it to go further than that. And he wondered about her. He wasn’t in love, no, but he had been, once upon a time. Certainly not the way Ben, maybe even Bill was, possibly Richie. But he had loved her- had loved all of them in his own quiet way. 

He never reached out to her after that night, and she never tried either, an unspoken bond between them. He guessed maybe she had forgotten him. As that morning wore on and they said their goodbyes, he could tell he was losing her. Her eyes dimmed, replaced slightly by confusion as she waved him off outside of the coffee shop. She hesitated slightly with each movement, as if she kept asking herself  _how do i know this man again?_

Years later, when they met again, five of them this time, in that back room in the Chinese restaurant, the memory came back full force, and Beverly let out a little gasp. Her blue eyes flicked up to his warm brown ones, and he smiled, slightly. The others were occupied with their hellos and Mike engulfed her in a warm hug.

“ _Did it-”_ she breathed, and he nodded slightly.

“It was real.” She squeezed him tightly, a thank you, another unspoken message passing between them. 

Keep this for yourself.


End file.
